Hellhound
by The Lich
Summary: A Cerberus operative is called upon to take part in a secretive mission. Thrust into deadly cirumstances, he is forced to come to terms about the organization he serves and himself. Takes place prior to and during Mass Effect 2 and Mass Effect 3.


_"Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness."_ - Martin Luther King, Jr.

**Genoa, Italy, Earth. December, 2184**

The question of good and evil always bothered him, even this morning as he sat over coffee. It was a question that always defied answer - or, indeed, even logic - never failing to keep him awake at night. Adam Kleczka always pondered on the nature of good and evil; what makes "good"? What makes "evil"? He was aware of the public opinion of both: altruism, mercy and charity were all shining examples of what is considered "good". Conversely, ruthlessness and the like were all considered "evil". All you had to do was go down and see one of the Blasto movies to confirm this.

But really, what was _good_ and what was _evil_? Was it ever so cut-and-dried? Were good people always the paragons that graced the silver screen? And were evil people always the conspiring, scheming backstabbers, as portrayed in the media? He instead turned to history rather than cinema. There were good men, over and over, who succumbed to vice and petty grievances. There were good men who couldn't make a difference, couldn't leave their mark or their teachings on history. There were evil men who accomplished great things through charisma, wit and likeability. Evil men often gained control by appeasing the people - and then...

A console rang from somewhere in the apartment.

"Good morning, Mr. Kleczka," a disembodied female voice said, cheerful and peppy, as the console automatically accepted the call. "How are you today?"

Adam frowned, setting the mug down. "I'm okay."

"Excellent. We have an assignment waiting for you, Mr. Kleczka."

"Alright," he said. "Send me the dossier."

"I'm afraid not. This is a very important directive, coming down from the top. The Illusive Man wishes to speak with you personally."

That caught his attention. The Illusive Man only conferred with his top operatives and directors, and then only seldom. He was the invisible guiding force behind the whole of Cerberus. Adam wasn't in a position of leadership or power, only being called occasionally to perform sensitive wetwork. He was, however, part of Project Phoenix. The Illusive Man always had eyes and ears in the cell, watching and reporting. The boundaries of human biotics was, evidently, an important subject to him. He remembered his first day in the project, being laid down on the cold examining table...

_What do you want?_ Adam thought, staring at his reflection in the small cup of brown-black liquid.

"Mr. Kleczka?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. Patch him through when he's ready - at my private terminal. I'll be there in a moment."

The line went dead. The woman was gone, leaving only the sound of his breathing and the patter of water slapping rocks below. The question of good and evil wormed its way back into his head. Was the Illusive Man good or evil? He knew what the Alliance and the Council considered him; a ruthless terrorist and a racist. But that was a two dimensional viewpoint. They judged only based on rumor and off a few stray methods. Certainly, the Illusive Man could be considered ruthless, but he was one of the few that knew of the risks and the sacrifices that had to be made, certain lines that had to be crossed. His ideal and his goal, Adam thought, was noble enough; to advance and protect humanity. The men and women that served beneath the Illusive Man believed wholeheartedly in that goal. So could it be considered evil?

And what of himself? Adam paused, hesitating outside his bedroom door. What could he be labelled? He never truly thought about it. He considered himself a good, decent man. As did his family and his friends. But they didn't see the operative that was beneath the surface. They didn't know about the ties to the "human-centric terrorist organization known as Cerberus." Could he be judged? Was he a terrorist? A criminal? A racist? Or was he only just a tool wielded by Cerberus, only obeying their orders? Was he just the product of an ideal?

"Argh!" he gasped.

The coffee was still hot.


End file.
